


Drengr

by jediJessi



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Pacific Rim, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Love That Pacific Rim, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-25 20:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jediJessi/pseuds/jediJessi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Ámáttugr rise from the depths of the ocean, the only thing standing between them and the end of the world as we know it are the brave pilots from the Drengr Initiative. (Pacific Rim AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

In the year 2035, scientists were warning the public about greenhouse gases and global warning. The government was on high alert for terrorist threats. There was mass panic about the resurgence of yellow fever. So the Ámáttugr were the last thing we needed. 

Ámáttugr. An Old Norse word for fearsomely powerful. And fearsomely powerful they were. When the world had its eyes turned to the sky for life from other worlds, the Ámáttugr came from below, from the depths of the ocean. Unfathomably big, with unearthly strength, the Ámáttugr would rise unpredictably and destroy a few oceanside cities, eventually falling to unceasing bombing and aerial gunfire. 

After Tokyo had been flattened four times, the UN called a conference to discuss the problem. It was a typically American idea that promised to save the human race- the creation of equally strong, equally big robots to fight and take down the Ámáttugr as they appeared.

The Drengr Initiative is where I come in. The government started looking for physically and mentally strong people to pilot the Drengrs. And obviously, that… wasn’t me. I took on a job with the Drengr Academy as a technician, and was given a front row seat to the drama, intrigue, and occasional horror the Academy drew. 

If the Ámáttugr were demons from hell, we were angels. Angels in giant metal Rock’em Sock’em Robots, but angels nonetheless. When others were shielded in Ámáttugr shelters, we were hunting the Ámáttugr down. When others believed the Ámáttugr undefeatable, we were taking them down. When others were ignorant, we were knowledgeable. When others feared, we fought.

We are Drengr. We are unstoppable.


	2. Chapter 1

The lunchroom at the Drengr Initiative Training Base had always been too loud, and had always reminded Hiccup too much of high school. Gripping his plasticky lunch tray with some unidentifiable meat on it, he navigated his way past groups of suits huddled around portascreens and cliques of engineers going over blueprints to get to his unofficially assigned seat at the end of one of the tables. Settling onto the wooden bench, Hiccup gingerly poked at his dinner with his fork, and risked a small bite. He hid a grimace. The Drengr Base was a state-of-the-art facility, and the training, equipment, and lodgings left nothing to be desired. The food, however, did.

“Tuff!”

“Ruff!”

Two blonde masses of muscle and sinew sprinted across the cafeteria, bounding over tables and pushing past people, to join in the middle. 

“I totally beat up Snot during one-on-one when-“

“I blew up four Ámáttugr during simulation-“

“Marshal Stoick smiled at me after I-“

“It was so rad!” They finished together. The Thorston twins had always had a peculiar bond. Half the time they were at each other’s throat, and the other half, they were inseparable. Today, unfortunately, it seemed to be the latter.

The unmissable arrival of the Thorstons heralded the end of Drengr simulation, and the pilots were slowly filtering into the lunchroom, usually in pairs. The Drengrs couldn’t be piloted by one person- the stress was too much for any individual to handle. Instead, the robots were piloted by two people, mentally and emotionally compatible pairs, who shared memories and thoughts while piloting through The Drift. It was said to be either quite enriching or quite traumatic. Hiccup didn’t have any thoughts on it personally. He had only experienced it once, and he was pretty sure it didn’t work like it was supposed to. 

“Snottie!” Another obnoxious cry from Tuffnut Thorston caused everyone to look up, roll their eyes, and look down again. Snotlout Jorgenson was not so easily brushed off. 

“Snotlout is a strong Viking name! I wear it with pride,” the stout young adult slammed his body onto the bench next to Ruffnut. “And good evening, my sun and stars,” he gave Ruffnut a calculated smolder.

“Better not let Hofferson catch you saying that,” Ruffnut cackled.

“Yeah, ‘cause then your chances with her will be even lower than they already are!” Tuffnut chimed in, earning a fist bump from his twin. 

“My calculations show that Snotlout’s odds at entering a romantic relationship with Astrid are at about 2%,” another Drengr pilot, Fishlegs, added, docilely placing his tray onto the table and sitting down. 

“Shit, 2%? That’s like, higher than zero!” Snotlout cheered.

“We can’t have anything below 2%. There could be an outlier incident. For example, Astrid could hit her head very hard and forget who you are. Or, it could be in the dark, and she wouldn’t recognize your voice,” Fishlegs rationalized.

Although Hiccup was only 10 feet away from them, it felt like they were on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon. Their table of commotion and camaraderie was worlds away from Hiccup’s lonely little corner of the cafeteria. 

The doors flew open, and it seemed as if everything got quiet. Astrid Hofferson stormed into the room, sunlight hair bound in a tight braid. Her footsteps, although staccato, were controlled, like everything else about her. She cut through the room like a knife through warm butter as she picked up a tray and joined her friends.

“Astrid, darling, love of my life, you look like Apollo herself tonight,” Snotlout intoned dramatically.

“Apollo was male,” Astrid speared a limp carrot with her fork. Astrid deserved more than limp carrots, Hiccup thought. Astrid deserved fresh salads made from the crispest lettuce and reddest tomatoes and tossed in the blood of her enemies.

“What stick’s up your ass? Stoick’s not going to let you pilot a Drengr solo?” Ruffnut threw an arm around her best friend.

“He said it was too dangerous,” Astrid hissed, loud enough for Hiccup to still eavesdrop. “Something about abnormal blood pressure and cranial stress- Whatever. Weak people stuff. Stormfly’s going to get rusty if she doesn’t have a pilot.”

“Not like any of us saw this one coming,” Tufffnut quipped, only to receive a punch from his sister.

Ruffnut rubbed Astrid’s back. “Thought about taking a new partner?”

Astrid jerked away. “I won’t. Not so soon after- No.” To the naked eye, her slip of total control was imperceptible. But for one so trained in the art of Astrid as Hiccup, it was like watching a window shattered by a baseball.

For a few seconds, everybody at the table was silent, communication happening through meaningful glances given over Astrid’s bent head. Suddenly, she stood up, scanning the room as if looking for something. Her electric blue gaze fell on him. “Haddock!”

Hiccup’s blood ran cold. Could she have noticed Hiccup eavesdropping on their conversation? That would be embarrassing. Was she going to yell at him for being a useless member of the initiative? That would be even more embarrassing. Was she going to ask him to be her Drengr co-pilot? That would be… fucking awesome.

She marched over to his desolate table, placing her hands on the top but not bothering to sit down. “You’re the guy that fixed up my Drengr, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sure you can tell from the oil on my… everything. She’s certainly tempestuous,” Hiccup grinned.

Astrid stayed stone-faced. “Well, she has two right-handed consoles.”

“I guess I assumed your partner is gonna be right-handed. My bad,” Hiccup quickly corrected. “I’ll change it if they’re not.” Hiccup thought back to Stormfly in the position he’d gotten her in, almost scrap metal. He distinctly remembered one right console and one left. 

“My mother was the righty. I’m left handed.” It was like Astrid could read his mind, like she was also seeing the wreckage from months ago. Her hand fluttered to a spot on her upper ribcage.

“Hey, listen, I’m sor-“

“Save it. Just fix my Drengr so I can do something useful again.” As quickly as she’d come, she went, back to her friends, and Hiccup was reminded yet again that although he could fantasize all he wanted, he would never be like that. He would never be equal in the eyes of the Drengr pilots. Like she had just said, here, nobody was useful unless they were wearing a suit of techno-customized armor (probably made by him) and piloting a hunk of techno-customized metal (also probably made by him). Just call him Hiccup the Useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter is heavily edited from the one posted on Fanfiction.net a while ago, so don't be confused. ConCrit is very much appreciated; this is my first time writing these characters, not to mention I’m still trying to find my own voice and style in writing. To wrap this up, make sure to contact me here or on Tumblr (lewiscarrolling) with any questions. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2: In Which there are Cats and Characterization

The workshop constantly smelled like copper, smoke, and sweat, a cocktail normally disgusting but strangely normal here. Hiccup flourished in the moist hot air, like an Amazonian orchid. Focusing on the wires and cables within the small exposed infrastructure of Astrid’s Drengr, he made a tiny cut. 

“M’lad!” Gobber shouted, throwing a meaty arm over Hiccup’s shoulder, nearly causing the boy to snip every wire within Stormfly. The head of Drengr Innovation, Repair, and Technology (or DIRT as the engineers called it) was the only man at the Base who didn’t mind interacting with Hiccup in public. “She’s looking beautiful.”

Hiccup took off his helmet to join Gobber in gazing up at the metallic Venus towering above them. “She really is the Helen of Drengrs. But she’s not done.”

“Seems you’ve been sweatin’ over that old wreck for months now. Don’t know why she isn’t.” 

“I keep thinking I’m done, but,” Hiccup shrugged. “According to Junior Ranger Hofferson, there’s always more work to do.”

Gobber scoffed. “Don’t listen to Astrid. I was there when she threw a fit at Stoick a few days back. She’s upset about her mum, which is proper and all, but don’t let her take it out on you.” Gobber’s thick accent always came out stronger when he was upset. 

“Whatever. I’ll just fix it, because that’s what I do. Fix things. Hiccup the Fixer,” he rambled, pulling his helmet back on and grabbing the soldering materials. 

“And clean that grease out of your hair! Disgusting!” Gobber commanded. 

“But you have grease in your everything,” Hiccup shot back.

“When you’re at my rank, you can roll around in it like a pig. But an engineer? Keep your damn hair clean!” 

Hiccup smiled a little, despite Gobber’s harsh words. Some days, his conversations with Gobber were the only social interaction he got. He lost himself in the whirring and humming of the engine. As he was every time he worked on Stormfly, he was astounded by how deeply the damage extended through the machine. Being strictly on the stable side of things, he forgot how vicious battles against Ámáttugr could be. 

Hiccup was there when they recovered Stormfly from the wreckage. Both arms torn off, sparking wires poking through. And one side of the Drengr crushed nearly flat. The right side.   
Sending Astrid out on the mission had been a desperate measure. Astrid’s parents were legendary Rangers, but after her father died, Astrid had been trained to take his place as her mother’s partner. When the attack came, the two had only piloted together in simulations. But when Bing, Bang, and Boom had all been downed by the massive Ámáttugr, there was no choice but to send Stormfly out to finish the job. 

Hiccup never heard the whole story. But what he knew was that this Ámáttugr was the most fearsome Ámáttugr in history. And although Stormfly was a ferocious machine, and both Astrid and her mother were talented pilots, the bond between the two was weak. 

Astrid had swum back to the Base, shaking with grief, cold, and fear, with a Ámáttugr scale lodged inches under her heart. Her mother’s body was never found. 

Ámáttugr followers called it the Bewilderbeast. Nobody knows what happened to it. Astrid never said. Some believe it was killed when Stormfly went down. Some believe it vanished, that it was a sign from Hell. And yet others believe the Bewilderbeast swam away, and that it was merely biding its time.

Hiccup didn’t really know what he believed. But he did know he didn’t like to think about it still being out there. 

A shrieking bell pierced the clangs of metal on metal. 

“We did good today! Everyone go home!” Gobber yelled, slinging his apron onto his assigned hook. The other engineers followed suit, quickly throwing their equipment into their workbenches and jogging out to get dinner. 

Hiccup took his time folding his apron, polishing his wrenches, and checking for safety hazards. 

“I can’t go till you go. C’mon,” Gobber banged a hammer against his table. 

“Just go to dinner. I’ll lock up. No worries,” Hiccup encouraged. 

“Not a chance, boy. You’ll sleep here.”

“I wish I could.”

“No mopin’! No barracks, no dorms. You boys have it nice, with your private rooms,” Gobber mocked. “This isn’t even close to the Army. I miss the barracks. Builds character!” 

Hiccup finally ran out of ways to procrastinate, and hefted his backpack up. “Be quiet.”  
The two bickered all the way to the mess hall, where Hiccup told Gobber “I’m not hungry. See you tomorrow.” Although Gobber was vaguely worried about Hiccup not eating, he couldn’t resist his own stomach, and the two parted.

Hiccup nearly sprinted through the abandoned accommodations block until he reached the heavy metal door with a 67 on it. “Finally,” he muttered, leaning his body against the door to push it open. He would never understand why these doors weighed more than he did. Probably to build character. 

He was greeted by a petulant meow. “Don’t be like that,” he muttered, digging through a drawer to pull out some canned tuna. “No, really, don’t be like that. Someone will hear.” 

The black cat devoured the tuna while Hiccup threw his backpack on the bed, keeping a nervous eye on the door. “Okay, it’s been two weeks. I told you, no longer than two weeks. Now you have to go, bud.” The cat’s mournful green eyes met Hiccup’s, and he sighed. “Just my luck. Already the company screw-up and now I’m hiding contraband. Great. The gods must love me.” The cat’s only response to Hiccup’s existential monologue was a slow, pointed, blink.

“I guess you need a name now,” Hiccup said, scooping up some of the uneaten tuna from the can with a tortilla chip. The cat blinked again. “What about… Lucky?” The cat managed to roll its eyes. “Okay, yeah, cliché. Greenie?” Hiccup grimaced, as the cat’s forest eyes rolled again. “Blackie?” The cat meowed loudly. “Yeah, I didn’t think about that one. Oof. Let’s forget about that.” The cat yawned. showing some missing teeth. “Look at you, you redneck. Missing teeth. Guess it’s hard out there for a stray.” The cat seemed to agree. “Yeah. It’s hard in here too, so I hope you weren’t expecting much. Let’s go with Toothless.” The cat meowed again, obviously perturbed by the jibe. “Yeah. I like Toothless.” The cat, now christened Toothless, settled down to take a nap, as Hiccup ate one last tortilla chip, and then did the same. 

“Sleep well, bud.” 

Meow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually posted this chapter on FF.net like a year ago and just never threw it up here too. Whoops.
> 
> I'm hoping to return to this over winter break, but hey, with my track record, who knows? Send reviews to encourage me. Or cash. Cash would be nice too. Happy holidays guys!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao hi guys! it's been a hot minute but i'm back on this so lmk if anyone's still reading/if the wait was worth it!

At least his day started with a bang. 

 

More specifically, the bang of a metal-toed boot against his door.

 

Hiccup shot out of bed and right into action, throwing a shirt on and nudging Toothless under the bed. Beginning to run a comb through his hair, he reconsidered, grabbing the cat and throwing him in a drawer. “I know, bud,” he responded to the cat’s indignant yowls. “Just _please_ stay quiet.” He double-checked his reflection, and finding it as good as it was going to get, inhaled, regained composure, and opened the door. 

 

“Finally,” Astrid Hofferson complained, perfectly posed against the wall. “What were you doing, putting on makeup?”

 

“Oh, it takes a while to perfect all of… this,” Hiccup chuckled nervously, gesturing to his face and doing his best femme fatale impression. Hofferson was not amused. “Uh… so to what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Save it,” she commanded. “I need the password you used to lock Stormfly’s central system.”

 

“Hey, every heard of the magic word?” The minute he said it, he regretted it. Astrid Hofferson wasn’t one for backtalk, especially not when her eyes were as murderous as they were right now. She lifted a cool eyebrow, and he suddenly wondered why he ever thought it was a good idea to stand between Astrid and her Drengr. “Uh, okay. Never mind. Well, uh, assuming you’re gonna use it to override said lock I put on said central system, then, uh, no,” he rubbed the back of his head, “I can’t give that to you.” Stormfly _looked_ fine on the outside, but he still hadn’t assessed all the damage to the internal systems. Piloting her could be dangerous- both for the Drengr and the pilot. “Sorry. Not safe yet. You know, she’s an older model, so I’m waiting on some parts from the Alaskan base, and I’m still not sure whether the cooling system works on the entire engine… but I think I’m close!”

 

She looked at him the way one would look at a bug they were getting ready to squash. “You think I give a shit about close?” Hiccup got the impression not many people had ever said no to her. “Look, I just-” she winced, subconsciously placing a hand on the spot above her ribcage where a piece of Stormfly had resided only a month before, “I need to get in there. I’m not going to pilot it. I won’t even link up.” It went unspoken, but understood, that she had nobody to enter the Drift with. “I need to see it.” 

 

He knew the right answer was no. He knew Marshall Stoick would have told her to scamper back to her friends and leave him alone. He knew Gobber would have phrased it a little cruder. But when Astrid turned her too-big blue eyes on him, practiced vulnerability apparent, he found himself unable to think about Marshall Stoick or Gobber. “Under one condition.” Assured in his approval, she dropped her act as easily as a mask and went back to her practiced expression of nonchalance.Damn. He hadn’t even made her sweat. “I’ll come with you.” The expression dropped, and so did Hiccup’s stomach. _Why did he say that?_

 

“Absolutely not,” she shot back. “You’d probably break something.”

 

“Hey, there’s only one of us here who’s actually totaled a Drengr unit, and it’s not me.” He almost relished the way her expression dropped, the way he saw the slightest hint of weakness in her face. It was exciting to shock Astrid- it was the only way he got to really _see_ her. “Sorry. That was below the belt.”

 

The weakness was gone and the mask was back up, like it had never been down. “I don’t give a shit what you think, say, or feel about me, let’s get that straight right now.” Her voice was measured and cold. “I need you to let me in my Drengr, and you know what? Sure, fine, come with me. I don’t care anymore. If that’s what it takes for me to get what I want, I’m fine with it.”

 

The worst kind of victories are the kind you don’t want to win at all. Astrid was telling him she’d comply with anything he wanted, but squirming under her ice-cold glare, he wished he’d lost. “Okay then. Um, meet me outside the engineering bay during dinner, I’m the only one who’s ever there then.”

 

“Gee, you skip meals?” She gestured to his fishbone body. “Shocking.” 

 

“See you at 6:30, _milady_ ,” he dropped an exaggerated, scraping bow. “It was so _gracious_ of you to honor me with your presence this morning.” 

 

Turning on her heel, Astrid Hofferson stalked away, presumably to go intimidate someone else, and Hiccup was left alone. Again. “That was fucking weird,” he mused, freeing Toothless from the prison of his bedside drawer. The cat mewed in response, looking up at Hiccup with eyes that agreed Astrid’s request was, indeed, fucking weird. 

 

Hiccup’s day simultaneously sped past and crawled by- for every moment he wished it was dinnertime, he felt a twinge of anxiety. Tick. He swung the hammer. Tock. He hit the nail. Tick. He swung the hammer. Tock. He hit his thumb. Letting out a sharp hiss of breath, he locked eyes with Gobber from across the room. A raise of eyebrows and a concerned look from the mentor was answered with a roll of eyes and a dismissive shrug from the student. Tick. He swung the hammer again. Tock. The dinner bell rang. 

 

All around him, men dropped their tools, stripped out of their jumpsuits, and filed out the door, the bay echoing with banter. Hiccup took his time- no one would miss him. “Boy,” he nearly jumped out of his skin when Gobber clapped a hand on his back. 

 

“Oh. Gobber. Hey,” he gave his best attempt at a ‘normal’ smile. 

 

It wasn’t returned. “You’ve been off all day. What’s eatin’ ya?”

 

On any other day, Hiccup would welcome the attention. But with one eye darting towards the clock, he was going to try his best to get Gobber out before Astrid came. _Astrid was coming! To see him!_ “Nothing!” He plastered a grin on his face. “Absolutely nothing. Actually, I’ve been doing really well. Getting 8 hours of sleep, well-balanced meals, I’m the poster child for health. You have _nothing_ to be concerned about. Go eat dinner! See you later! I’m right behind you!” Hiccup nudged Gobber with everything he had- although, compared to what Gobber had, it wasn’t much. 

 

Unconvinced, Gobber took the hint, heading towards the door. The lure of dinner was too tempting to resist. “Well… alright then. We’ll talk later. Just… stay safe, m’boy.” With a clap on the back, the man was gone, leaving Hiccup with his parting words and a girl who was anything but safe. 

 

“Hey there, Useless.” It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the nickname, but it was the first time _she’d_ said it. She was, of course, playing with a hammer that didn’t belong to her, golden hair catching the fading sunlight coming through the only window in the workshop. Leave it to Astrid to find her light. “Damn, I see why you all call this place DIRT. This floor’s disgusting.”

 

“Well, you know, we actually do work here,” Hiccup resisted the urge to ask her _if she’s forgotten what work’s like while she’s been on leave._ “Sorry it’s not up to your standards.” He couldn’t tell if he was excited or terrified, if he was attracted to her or if she was activating his fight or flight instinct (Hiccup was a flier. At least against her). 

 

“Whatever. Can I see Stormfly now, or are you not done with your witty banter?” She rolled her eyes, cutting him off. 

 

“Put the hammer down first, and then we’ll talk.” That girl wasn’t coming anywhere near him with a weapon.

 

She cracked a smile- or maybe she bared her teeth? “I prefer axes anyways,” she returned the hammer to its place on the wall. “And if I wanted to kill you, we both know I wouldn’t need that.” 

 

Gulping, Hiccup crossed the room, punching in the first passcode to access the Drengr. DIRT kept their prized possessions under lock and key, with one PIN to access the robots, another to unlock the hatch, and a third on Stormfly’s central system. Hyperaware of Astrid hovering over his shoulder, he reminded her “I’m not supposed to show you these, but we do a retinal scan anyways. So don’t even try it.” Stormfly’s hatch opened, and he couldn’t miss the way Astrid’s eyes brightened. The connection between a pilot and a Drengr was something Hiccup would never understand. To him, it was a piece of metal artistry meant to fight Ámáttugr, but to the pilots, they were home. “One more password,” Hiccup muttered as he punched in his custom code- B E R K. 

 

“What does that even mean?” Astrid wrinkled her nose condescendingly. 

 

“And what the hell is a Storm Fly?” Hiccup countered, pushing ‘enter’. 

 

Watching a Drengr power up was always exciting. First came a rush of electricity that almost put Hiccup’s hair on end. Next was a loud humming that filled the entire workshop. And finally light, bright light, emanating from the “eyes” of a Drengr. Hiccup practically made this, and he was afraid of it. He almost pitied the Ámáttugr.

 

“Thanks,” Astrid tossed him flippantly, brushing past him at an effortless jog to get in her Drengr. 

 

“Remember our deal,” he caught up, with a less-effortless jog. “Not without me.”  


“Ugh. Whatever.” Hiccup thanked his lucky stars she was so in awe of Stormfly to be annoyed with him. He stood back, admiring the central control hatch he’d been working so hard to reconstruct. Of course, there were things to be fixed- a chair that didn’t swivel all 360 degrees, a control screen that didn’t have voice command, wires that hadn’t been integrated yet- but Astrid didn’t seem to see any of those things. She was drinking everything in with eyes wider than Toothless’, running her hands over the defective chair and control panels, quieter than he’d ever seen her. 

 

“It’s so different,” she sighed, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. 

 

“Good different or bad different? Because if it’s bad different I can change things. I mean, it’ll take longer, but I can change it. If you want.”

 

“Good different,” she nodded, and the look in her eyes reminded Hiccup that this was the room where she might have watched her mother die. “Hey, look, I know I’ve been pretty hard to handle, but I want to say tha-“

 

But Hiccup never got the thanks he so desperately craved, because her sentence was interrupted by Marshall Stoick. And a siren. And a megaphone. “EXIT THE DRENGR IMMEDIATELY!”

 

Any humanity in Astrid’s face vanished immediately, and a hardness took its place. “Fucking great. Just what I need.” Cutting in front of Hiccup, she stalked out of Stormfly. “Do I need to put my hands where you can see them?” She snarked.

 

“Junior Ranger Hofferson,” Stoick sounded closer to disappointment than Hiccup had ever heard him. And he'd heard the Marshall disappointed many times. “You’re on protected property that doesn’t belong to you. Trespassing.”

 

“How can I trespass in my own Drengr?” Astrid countered, folding her arms. “I wasn’t going to _link up_. I was just… checking her out!” A glare from the Marshall was all it took for her stance to change. “…I’m sorry. I was wrong,” she sighed, red and blue lights dancing across the architectural planes of her face. 

 

“Shoulda known,” Gobber stepped out of the darkness to add to the guilt trip sandwich. “Clearly she wasn’t stable.” Both Marshall and Ranger turned to glare at him. “Well, she’s not!” Eating his words, he decided to change the subject. “How’d the lass get inside in the first place? Did you hack past all 3 blocks? Maybe you’re in the wrong department,” he chuckled.

 

A guilty look from Astrid over her shoulder looked like his cue. Gingerly stepping out of the shadows of Stormfly, Hiccup stood next to her in the flashing lights, feeling like an actor stepping out to a discontented audience. “Uh, no. That was all me.”  


A nervous guffaw from Gobber only underscored the seriousness of Marshall Stoick. “Hiccup,” he sighed, not disappointed, not surprised. 

 

“Hey there, Dad.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Hiya! This is my first multichapter fic for AO3, and my first HTTYD fic, so I'm pretty excited to see if people like it or not. Sorry for the overload of tell-not-show, I was trying to mirror the first bit of the movie where Raleigh's filling us in. Concrit is much appreciated, as I'm young and trying to improve. Thanks for reading! Hit me up on my Tumblr (lewiscarrolling) with any questions, comments, concerns, or cries for help.)


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